Tears at a Window
by Athyna DaughterofPosiedon
Summary: What if House hadn't ignored Thirteen when she was crying, in the middle of the night in The Dig?


**A/N Hey look! I'm not dead! I just went to camp, and then when I got back, I got a brand-new computer, and Word didn't work. But now I'm back, with a story whose subject was suggested forever ago by an anonymous reviewer. Sorry if this sucks. I haven't been writing much lately.**

**Disclaimer: I own House MD, and Thirteen is getting together with House! Oh, wait, this isn't my alternate reality…damn. Ok, I don't own it.**

You wake up to the sound of crying. You roll over, and are met with an unfathomable sight. Thirteen is sitting by the window, sobbing. For a moment, you consider turning over again and going back to sleep, but deep down, you know that's not an option. The floor is hard, and you can't walk properly, because you can't remember where you put your cane the night before. She doesn't acknowledge you when you get to the window. However, when you put a hand on her shoulder, she turns.

Silently, you gather her into your arms. She rests there for a moment, before pulling away roughly. She stands up, hands covering her face, and then turns to face you again. You stand up, and she collapses into your shoulder. You stumble to the bed, and she falls in beside you. She's shaking, and the room is cold because of crapy heating and rain. Thirteen is curled up in a fetal position, shivering, and still crying. You pull the covers over her form, and marvel at how small she looks. Spooning her from behind, you wonder how the hell you got here. At this hour, all your mind can come up with is potato guns, and training bras.

Thirteen's sobs have quieted to the occasional whimper. She rolls over, and you can see it in her face that she lied to you earlier on. Right now, though, you don't care.

You've always known Thirteen was hot. You almost fired her in the beginning, because no girl can look that good, and be smart enough to work for you. It took all of two weeks to make you glad you didn't. (You are, however, questioning your decision on the little one with the nose.) It wasn't until now, however, with her eyes red and puffy, and her face stained with tears, that you realize she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You don't tell her this, of course, but you think it, and that has to count for something.

Looking down at her, you're struck with the urge to kiss her. The feeling isn't unfamiliar. If you're honest with yourself, it's really always been there, just never this strong. She's weak right now, and you know you shouldn't, but really, when have _you_ ever paid attention to society's social rules? Before your brain is quite caught up with your body, your lips are on hers. Her lips are warm and soft, and she's responding in full. Her hands slide up your cheeks, and slip into your hair, where they tangle in order to tug you closer. Her tongue shoves it's way past your lips, and your surprised, because you never expected kissing Thirteen to be so harsh and rough. You're surprised that you're surprised, because this is Thirteen, and she's…well, she's Thirteen. Then you wonder why _this _is what you're focused on.

You roll over, and Thirteen flips on top of you. It occurs to part of your brain—the part that isn't totally focused on making out with Thirteen—that this is totally wrong. She's upset, and a normal person would ask what's wrong, and how they can help. But you're not a normal person, are you? You're House, and the day you ask someone what's wrong because you are genuinely concerned is the day hell freezes over. A normal person would wallow in tears for much longer than Thirteen has, and talk through their pain, not make out with her cripple boss, who's at least ten years older than her, but has the cynicism of an eighty-year-old who's been through at least one war. But this is Thirteen, and she's not normal either. She doesn't deal with pain; she buries it in one-night stands and alcohol. Neither of you are normal, but in that moment, it doesn't matter.

**A/N Has anyone else noticed that my Thirteen/House fics come out a lot deeper than my Camteen ones?**


End file.
